Street Battles

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Street Battles
by Bob Moore © 2019

I remember when I was a kid
dustbins were tin, and they had a tin lid
it made a great shield, when we went off to war
to fight the gangs, in the suburbs next door

We had wooden sticks, and we called them a sword
we threw rocks and stones, and our battle cry roared
but hardly a bone, ever got broke
and at the end of the day, it was all a big joke

We’ll be back tommora’ we’d yell as we went
they yelled, “we’ll be waiting”, and a rock our way sent
Nobody won our battles and fights
But we had to get home, ‘fore they turned on the lights.

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